


Choking

by roomeight



Category: Blur, Britpop - Fandom, Damon / Graham
Genre: Britpop, Gramon, M/M, blur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roomeight/pseuds/roomeight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flashback of 90's Gramon, transitioning into modern Gramon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choking

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story was written in a flurry of smutness, dipped in smut, and rolled around on the ground in a pile of smut until gratuitously dirty. Also, since this is set in the late nineties, there is drug use...although it's not too bad. (Don't do drugs, kids.) And some violence. Think of it like soft-Tarantino smut. That being said, may the internet Gods forgive me for posting it.

When his head hit the ground, it hit the ground running.

"Isn't it amazing?" Damon had asked him quietly, before taking one of Graham's fingers into his mouth. "It's better than sex. It's...everything."

He looked down the track marks on his lover's arm, remembering the needle as it stung on its way in.

Graham rolled his head back, placing his hands on the side of Damon's head. God, his mouth was perfect. That tongue, that washing machine tongue as it swirled around everything. 

“Christ, Day.”

Back then they had done this for hours, shooting up and then fucking, and then shooting up again. Sometimes they would just hold one another for hours, staring out into the abyss until the next high and the next urge hit them.

"I need you." He would say.

And when Graham would try to get up to leave he would pull him back.

That was when the fighting began. First the anger: Damon being rough with him, taking him without consent. Shoving his cock down Graham's throat when Graham told him no. Choking him. Damon wouldn't listen, he was too caught up. The drugs had taken him over. It was then that the abuse began. At first it was a simple, a reminder of who was in charge. Damon was always the ringleader, in the band and every thing else. Then came the bruises, then the real hits—when Graham would wake up with a black eye, only to find Damon clinging to him.

They say that when love leaves you, it’s like someone taking away your oxygen in small increments. In the last days, those final days of glory and and sweat and something like love—that's what being with Damon had been like...choking slowly.

Graham moaned as he felt Damon's tongue run the length of his cock, before inserting his forefinger into the soft pink exterior of his behind.

In a way, Graham had liked the abuse. He liked the idea of Damon taking advantage of him. It was thrill, it was a high. Having Damon's cock so far down his throat that he could barely breathe, Damon's hands holding his head in place, force-fucking him.  They were never a democracy, in the band or in the bedroom. Damon was always in charge.

Graham moaned as he felt Damon insert another finger, his cock twitching as the thought of Damon fucking him one last time overwhelmed him.

He thought of their first time at Stanway, in the boy's bathroom stall. He had walked in on them, Damon and three other boys. Damon had been on his knees, servicing the three boys above him as they called him a fag, a cocksucker, anything they could do to humiliate him as he sucked them off.

Everything sexual that Graham had ever known with Damon was violent, in the end. The sweet kisses in-between, those were the good parts. In retrospect, alcohol was a buffer between him and Damon's aggressive side. You can't feel anything on heroin except bliss. And once you have bliss, love is no longer relevant.

“Day.”

Graham looked up at him, his eyes uncertain. 

Damon stopped, bright blue eyes looking down at the man beneath him.

“I promise.” He said softly, nudging his cheek against Graham’s. “This is not like before.”

“Are you sure?”

Graham clenched his teeth, his eyes watering. Every thing was flooding back. All the pain, all the abuse, all the broken promises.

He gasped as Damon pushed into him, suddenly.

“I love you.” He breathed into his ear.

Graham mewled underneath him, his hips pushing upward into Damon’s thrusts. God, how many times had he dreamt of this? It couldn’t be true. 

He shuddered as Damon pushed deeper, his own hand reaching for his erection. His mind was too absorbed in this to think rationally anymore. 

It wasn’t long before he began to feel the rising elation inside him, building up and threatening to spill over. He could hear Damon’s voice rising in octaves above him, his lips pressed against Graham’s.

When Damon had fucked him the first time, inside the shed beside the football field, it had not been an act of love. Damon had been trying to embarrass him, forcing the poor boy on his knees and forcing him to suck his cock.

They had always had a complicated idea of love. 

“Day.”

“Christ, Gra. What?” Damon breathed into his ear, half-moaning. 

Graham wrapped his free hand around Damon’s arse, his finger prodding the singer’s pink underside.

He heard Damon moan softly. 

“Tell me you love me.”

“Christ, Graham. I love you. I love every single inch of you.”

He pressed his finger into Damon’s opening, feeling the warm tight flesh.

Graham looked up at him, his eyes glassy.

“I don’t believe you.”

Exasperated, Damon stared down at him. Every so carefully, he slowed his pace, looking down at Graham with utmost interest.

“Gra, I loved you the first time I saw you. I love your arse—and Christ, I love your cock.” He stroked Graham, eliciting a moan from the guitarist. “I love your heart, I love your mind, I love your guitar—fucking hell I love your guitar...” 

Graham could feel the elation rising up within him. 

“Remember Hyde Park? When you were on your knees and I saw you.. Christ, Graham. Do you even know what that did to me?”

He felt Damon push inside him one last time, his voice at it’s highest octave as he came inside him. It wasn’t long before Graham followed him, his warm seed spilling onto his stomach.

He felt Damon’s body tremble above him, his long arms wrapping themselves around Graham’s waist. 

Together they lay shaking for a moment, post-coital and weak. Graham stared up at the ceiling, his mind spinning. Nothing mattered except this moment. Nothing mattered, except the feeling of Damon’s arms around him like he had dreamt about night after night for so many years.

“I love you.” Graham said quietly, his voice solemn.

Saying nothing, he felt Damon squeeze him, the sound of his lone heart beating against his own chest.


End file.
